Melting Ice
by Paperclip-Assassin
Summary: She has that way of catching him off-guard and heating up those feelings he's trying to keep under a layer of ice. Unfortunately it's never easy for them to work things out, but with Abby's help they just might take the risk this time. Set in no particular time frame.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm very tired right now, so if I don't make any sense, that's the reason.**

**This following piece of writing is random. I don't know where it came from, must've been a special delivery or something. Anyway, I don't really know what to do with it, the ending's pretty weird and sudden and I'll probably try to improve it tomorrow and your ideas are really very welcome :)**

**Also, I must confess that even though I'm 16, I have never been drunk* (16 is the legal Age for drinking alcohol in Austria) so technically I just made random stuff up.  
-**_ *even though people say I act like it every day :P_

_**Uh, yeah, so...**__**I don't own Tiva**__**, I gues you all know how much that sucks.**_

* * *

Someone knocks at his door with perfect timing to interrupt the best scene of the movie he's watching. Surprisingly it doesn't bother him that much. He's seen the movie about thirty times already, anyway. With a sigh he puts the beer he's been nursing for the past one and a half hours away and gets up, annoyed when his back is stiff from sitting after merely one movie.  
He unlocks his door and opens it halfway to see who wants to visit Casa DiNozzo at this time of the night.

To his surprise he finds a very flushed Ziva in a very short dress grinning up at him.

"Toneeee!" she calls out happily, throwing her arms up in a way so uncharacteristic for her that he just stares for a moment.

"Uh, hey, Zi," he finally chokes out. She takes a wobbly step forward and pushes past him into his apartment, throwing her purse in a corner and dropping down on his couch. He shuts his door and turns, raising an eyebrow. "Ziva David, are you _drunk_?"

"Abby an' I went out for drinks," she explains in a slurry voice. "And it was fun!" she adds before letting herself fall backwards into his sofa cushions with a fit of giggles. He chuckles. In all those years that they've been friends, he's never seen her this wasted. Of course her turning up at his doorstep in this state, leaving him to take care of her, is only fair, as it has happened a couple of times the other way around.  
Suddenly she sits up again and looks around the room with a frown until her eyes find his mostly undisturbed beer bottle. She grabs it and takes a gulp, grimacing when she notices it's warm.  
"D'you have anything stronger?" she asks with an almost angelic smile.

"I do," he tells her and smiles when she claps her hands, "but I won't give it to you."

Immediately her expression darkens. "Oh, I may be drunk," she says gravely, "but I can still kill you…y'know why?"

He decides to play along. Drunken Ziva is definitely fun to watch. "Why?"

"Because, Tonee, I am a Ninja!" She laughs, burying her face in a cushion.

"Of course you are, Zi," he says, approaching her, "Now let's get you out of these shoes. They look painful."  
He kneels down next to the couch that is completely occupied by his partner and pulls off one of her high-heels. She moans softly when both her feet are freed of those death-traps they call shoes.

"Thanks," she whispers and turns from her belly on her back so she can look at him. They stare at each other for a moment until she moves to his end of the couch, motioning for him to come closer as well. He just gives her a skeptical look. "I need to tell you a secret," she says a bit too loudly for a whisper and slides closer still, almost falling off the couch. Luckily he catches her and sits her up again, taking a seat next to her, just to be sure.

"Well, what's the secret?" he asks lightly, already noticing her eyelids droop. It won't be long until she'll fall asleep. She giggles again in that uncharacteristic manner of hers and suddenly her lips are at his ear.

"I had a dream about you last night," she whispers and her breath tickles his ear.

"Tell me mo-"

"Shhh," she interrupts, putting a finger to his lips. "And I realized…that I am still not over you."  
That gets his attention and his eyes widen. Of course Ziva doesn't mean that. She looks like she's drunk more than a sailor on shore leave.  
Her finger moves from his lips to caress his cheek and before he can comprehend what's happening she pulls him into a kiss and although he knows it's wrong, he kisses her back. Because it's Ziva who's kissing him, it's _Ziva_ who's running her hands all over his body and dammit it's _Ziva_ who pulls him down on top of her.  
He tastes the alcohol on her tongue and finally comes to his senses again, pulling back and getting up to put some distance between them. He's breathing hard as he re-buttons his shirt, avoiding to look at Ziva in her oh so short little piece of fabric that barely counts as dress, but turns to her when she's again laughing like…well, like a drunk person.

"You," she says, pointing an accusing finger, when the laughing fit is over, "Toney DiNozzo, are saying 'no' to sex?"

He chuckles once as he nods. "You would regret it in the morning, Zi."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, how noble of you-" She's interrupted by a yawn and seems to lose focus for a short time, but when she looks at him again she smiles seductively. He curses inwardly at the effect one lingering look of her still has on him.  
"C'mon, Tony. It is not that big of a deal. Just… sex. I am sure I would not mind tomorrow," she winks at him.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and holds his breath. She is making it really hard for him to stay the responsible friend he intended to be for tonight.  
"Well, Ziva, maybe you wouldn't mind…but _I_ probably would," he finally says, not daring to look at her. She doesn't say anything, so he continues.  
"Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't want you, because I do. God, Ziva, I swear I do. And that's precisely why I can't just have sex with you. With you it couldn't possibly be 'just sex', there would always be feelings involved." He takes a deep breath. "And I am a bit afraid of how deep those feelings go. It's like they're deep-frozen most of the time, but sometimes they start warming up and it's like they've never been frozen at all."  
He leans against a wall for support before his final confession.  
" Ziva… I can't sleep with you, because I might be in love with you."

There is no answer and he thinks he might have shocked her into silence, wasted or not, but instead he hears soft snoring coming from his couch. He slumps down into a sitting position, back still against the wall and ignores the sharp pain shooting up his spine. He wonders at how his simple refusal of sex could lead to a full-blown confession of love to his partner and best friend and suddenly he's glad that she's fallen asleep during his little speech. Otherwise it might get more embarrassing in the morning than if they had actually slept together.

With a sigh he grabs a blanket from his bedroom and covers her with it before opening the window for a little fresh air. He watches her sleep for some time, a warm ball of affection forming in his stomach while a small part of him secretly hopes that she heard him.

* * *

She wants to open her eyes, which shouldn't be that much of an effort, but her whole body screams at her to just keep them closed and lay still. Her head feels like a bowling ball has been dropped on it and she has a hard time remembering what could have caused this. Thinking hurts.  
In another weak attempt of moving she manages to lift her hand to her mouth, with the wonderful effect of now having it covered in saliva. She really hopes it is her own.  
Very slowly her sense of hearing seems to start working again, because she suddenly cringes at the noise of someone vacuuming upstairs. Wait…upstairs? She lives in the top most apartment…there couldn't be anyone vacuuming the roof, right?  
Of course this could mean that she isn't at home…this bed doesn't really feel like her own, does it? Now would be a great time to remember last night.

"Rise and shine," a familiar voice calls from somewhere near. She knows that voice…it has something to do with…home. But she isn't at home, she's sure of that.

"Where am I?" she asks and cringes at how hoarse her own voice is. She needs water.

"Washington, DC, capital of the United States of America," comes the answer.

"Very helpful, Tony," she says, suddenly realizing where she is, because she doesn't know anyone in the world who would give an answer like that without hesitation. It makes her suppress a smile.

"Hey, it did help you."

"True," she says before again trying to open her eyes. This time she's more or less successful, peeking through her lashes into her partner's semi-bright living room. Even the little amount of light feels like needles are being stuck through her eye-balls. And this damn vacuum cleaner is still running, too.  
"Make it stoooop!" she whines, covering her head with a cushion to block out the noise.  
She doesn't know how much time passes, but eventually the noise does stop. She sighs contently as blessed silence fills the room. Much to her annoyance she is pulled into a sitting position before she can relax completely again.

"You've slept enough. Time to get rid of your headache," Tony says, but something about his voice is different than usual. It holds something… affectionate. And for some reason it makes her feel like she's supposed to blush. She shrugs it off as a random side-effect of her hangover.

"What time is it?" She asks while opening her eyes for the third time, although it's the first time they actually open all the way. Tony sits next to her with a cup of coffee in his hands. She immediately tries to grab it, but his reflexes are for once better than hers and he catches her hand before it can reach the cup.

"Not just yet, Ninja," he says with a soft smile, "First you need to take your medicine."  
He nods towards the coffee table and when she follows his gaze she finds a glass of water with some Aspirin next to it. Say what you want, Tony really is a great friend.

She waits for the powder to dissolve while she feels his eyes on her, when she looks at him the expression on his face is odd, to say the least. He looks like he desperately wants to ask something but is afraid of her reaction, "Is something wrong?"

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

She feels more than a bit embarrassed as she shakes her head. "No. Looks like Jack did a good job."  
His eyes darken at this statement in a way that she recognizes as jealousy. She's seen him wear that look often enough, "Calm down, Tony. I meant Jack Daniels. It was a joke."

"Oh," he clears his throat and chuckles while looking away, "Good one."

"Why are you being weird?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.

He gets up and starts pacing.  
"Why am I being weird? I'm not being weird. You're being weird for suggesting I'm being weird!" with that he storms out of the room, leaving her wondering what the hell happened last night.

* * *

He watches her gulp down her Aspirin when he re-enters the room. She's right. He is acting weird. Very much so. But he just envies her for not remembering any of the things they've done or said. It would make everything so easy. Now he has to watch her raise that glass of water to her lips - the very same lips he got to taste only hours before - and live with the bitter truth that she doesn't recall one thing about his whole confession.

He still tries to convince himself that he doesn't feel anything other than friendship when she kisses his cheek to thank him for taking care of her and promises to buy him lunch sometime soon.  
When she walks out of his apartment, wearing her Mona Lisa smile he's already sure that a thin layer of ice is already building around his feelings for her again, but somehow it feels like the coldest period of his emotional Ice Age is over.

* * *

_**Now an important question for you: Should I leave it at this or do the clichè of a Happy End?  
Just keep in mind that IF you want me to continue, it will take a lot of time for an update, because my priority right now is my other multi-chap** **fic**._

_**Thanks for reading, as always. :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, looks like I finally got around to writing this and giving it a happy ending. :)  
**

**And this is just on time, because now I can officially start my second season of fanfiction writing. I can't believe it's only been a year since I started... my life must've been so empty before. :P  
**

**The annyoing thing is... I still don't own the characters. Who would've guessed.  
**

* * *

The first thing Ziva does when she returns from her afternoon run is checking her phone and she almost gets a heart attack when she sees the five missed calls from Abby. Her heart speeds while she waits for the Goth to pick up, hoping nothing bad happened. After the fourth ring Abby'S cheerful voice rings through her ears and she sighs with relief.

"_ZIVA! Oh my God, I tried to call you, like, a million times!_" Abby cries somewhat accusingly.

"I am sorry, Abby, but I went for a run and did not take my phone with me. I needed some fresh air after yesterday." Even though she doesn't remember that much of the evening, she still feels happier than she has in a while. It was good that Abby dragged her to that bar for a girls night out.

"_Yeah, that's kinda why I'm calling. Last night I mean,_" her friend suddenly goes unusually quiet before she specifies her statement, "_Did you tell him?_"

That takes her off guard. "Tell who what?"

"_Tony…_ " Abby hesitates, obviously waiting for her to remember something important.

"I do not remember that much of what happened yesterday… " Ziva admits. "I mean I remember us going to that bar and I do remember the first round of drinks, but after that I am blanked out. The next thing I remember is waking up on Tony's couch with a headache."

"_Okay, it's _blacked_ out, first of all. And you seriously don't remember a thing?_"

"No, I am afraid not."

"_Gosh, this is awkward_," Abby hesitates again, "_do you want to know what happened?_"

She thinks for a moment before deciding that it could not possibly be that bad. "Yes, please."

Abby let out a deep breath on the other end, "_Well, after a couple of drinks we got talking and somehow the subject we ended up talking about was dreams. I told you about that weird dream I had with me trying to call Gibbs over and over again and totally freaking out because I couldn't reach him, until I realized that I was trying to call him with a banana and it's funny because-_"

"-Abby, is this important?" Ziva interrupts impatiently. She really needs to have a nice refreshing shower, but she also wants to know why she decided to talk to Tony.

"_Uh, no. You're right, sorry. Moving on with the story. So after that you were already a bit tipsy and all giggles and you told me about that dream you had the night before… About you and Tony making out in the elevator._"

She remembers that dream only too good and feels her cheeks redden with shame. Ziva David does _not_ tell people about her fantasies, especially not when they include certain male co-workers. With a groan she drops down onto a chair and covers her face with the hand that's not holding the phone. "Please tell me this is not true…" she says more to herself than to her friend who's still patiently letting that information sink in.

"_If you think that's bad, then you better brace yourself for what's coming_," Abby says gravely, "_You decided to tell Tony you still have feelings for him, but I refused to drive you to his apartment, so you took a cab._"

"What?!" Ziva exclaims, jumping up from her chair and almost knocking it over, "How could you let me do that, Abby?"

"_I'm sorry, but when I tried to stop you, you went all crazy Mossad assassin on me! I got bruises!_" the Goth tries to defend herself. For a few long minutes neither woman says a word and it drives Ziva crazy. Abby is the first to speak again, "_Look, I'm sorry for not trying harder to hold you back, Ziva. I really am, but I thought you two would finally work this out…_"

"There is no '_this_'!" Ziva shrieks, knowing that she's lying.

"_Ziva David, don't you dare lying to me! Not after everything you told me yesterday, drunk or not! You told me that you didn't want to live with regrets anymore. Well, guess what! You hiding your feelings like that, pushing them further back with every day like your least favorite thing in a fridge, is going to make you regret it. Because maybe that food you're trying to avoid doesn't taste as horrible as you think. Maybe it's the best damn food you've ever had in your life!_"

Ziva is confused, not only by that whole speech, which is so incredibly _Abby_ to her, but also because she's starting to remember little chunks of the previous night. "Uh… Abby, I need to go."

"_What? No!_"

"I am sorry, Abby. See you at work," with that the Israeli hangs up and heads straight into her bathroom. She really needs to have a clear head for what she is going to do next.

* * *

Tony has been sitting on his couch, watching TV while not actually watching it since Ziva left, which was a while ago, as he notices when he takes a look at the clock on his wall. He spent the whole day in a bad mood and it doesn't look like he would cheer up anytime soon. Forgetting the events of last night is harder than he thought it would be.

When he finally decides to do something productive like the laundry he's been putting off for the past week a knock sounds on his door, quiet und hesitant. He's not in the mood for visitors, though, and so he just ignores it, but whoever is out there is persistent because after another knock to which he still refuses to react the phone in his pocket starts buzzing. With a sigh he gets it out and reads the message. To his surprise it's from none other than Ziva.

_I can hear you. Open up._

No emoticons.

He drops the pile of laundry and heads for the door, but hesitates before he opens up to get a hold on himself, because he's suddenly oddly nervous.

"Tony, if you do not open that door right now, I will-"

She doesn't get to finish that sentence, as he finally unlocks his apartment to let her in. With three big strides she's in the center of the living room with her eyes darting all over the place, but not once looking at him.

"Hey," he greets her with his trademark grin. His _fake_ trademark grin, that is. "Feeling better than this morning?"

"No. I mean _yes_," she says, quickly correcting herself when he raises his eyebrows. "I am no longer hung-over."

"That's good to hear, I guess."

She glares at him, finally meeting his eyes. "Tony, what exactly did I say to you yesterday?"

He squirms under her intense gaze, but can't bring himself to look away. Immediately he remembers how her hot breath feels against his skin, the way her lips seems to perfectly fit against his own. He remembers her words.

"_Still not over you."_

"Well you talked a lot of crap, Ziva, I wouldn't interpret too much into it," he jokes, hoping she doesn't notice he's lying. When she doesn't say anything, he starts to ramble, "I had to call my neighbours upstairs this morning and ask them if they could vacuum their apartment at a later hour, because of your hangover y'know. Now if they didn't think I was crazy before, they sure do now."

The Israeli sits down on his couch, completely ignoring that statement. "Please do not make this difficult. What. Did. I. Say." She emphasizes every word carefully.

"You said you were still not over me," he says softly, taking a seat next to her so they are on eye level again.

Ziva drops her head in her hands and for a moment he wants to reach out and touch her, but thinks better of it. "I am so sorry, Tony."

"How long?" he bursts out after a felt eternity of silence between them. Her head shoots up and she looks terrified for a moment before regaining her composure.

"Excuse me?"

"You said you were still not over me, which implies that you've had some kind of feelings for me over a longer period of time. How long are we talking about?"

She stares at him, before her eyes drop to her hands. "Since Jeanne," she whispers.

"Wha- … Ziva… that's," he does the calculating in his head, but his brain fails to work. Jeanne feels like a lifetime ago.

"Tony, it is not like I have had these feelings… continuously. There was Michael and… Ray but somewhere in the back of my head I kept wondering, what if _we_… you know…"  
Her dark eyes look up at him again and he tries to swallow down a sudden wave of emotion at how vulnerable she looks. He knows her well enough to know what an effort it is for her to talk openly about her feelings.

"You wanna know what else happened yesterday?" he murmurs, searching her eyes for an answer. She looks skeptical but finally nods. "We kissed."

At that Ziva reacts in a way he doesn't expect at all. She slaps him. Hard. "How dare you?" she yells, jumping to her feet and heading for the door, "Taking advantage of me like that! You really are a pig, Tony. A woman turns up drunk at your doorstep and you immediately take that as an invitation, do you not?!"

He gets up as well and catches her hands in mid-air, pulling them down to rest between them.  
"You might have noticed that you were still wearing your dress this morning," he says calmly, holding her hands in an iron grip until he's sure she won't hit him again. "Also, _you_ kissed _me_. And I admit that I _did_ kiss you back and that it was wrong."  
He sees embarrassment and hurt pass over her features for a moment until he realizes how his words can be misinterpreted.  
"I don't mean it like that. It was wrong because you were drunk and I was sure you were going to regret it," he chuckles once, "you made fun of me for turning down an offer for sex."

Her lips turn up into a half smile, "I am sorry for being irrational. I should have listened to you and I should definitely not have slapped you."

He smiles back at her. "It's okay. I would've slapped me too, if I were you."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Zi. Shoot."

"Will this make things between us… awkward?"  
She has that vulnerable look in her eyes again and he doesn't know how to answer straight away.

"We could just forget about it," he suggests, avoiding her gaze. She clears her throat.

"Is that what you want?"

He thinks for a moment, trying to find an answer to that question. If they just forgot about that night and the events that followed, he believes that everything could go back to normal. The thing is, he's not so sure if he wants normal back. "No," he says when he dares to look at her again.

"No?" Ziva frowns at him, evidently confused.

"No. Because, hell, we've played this game long enough, don't you think? And I simply can't pretend that I didn't feel anything when we kissed. Ziva, I'm not over you either."

She blinks a couple of times after that, before storming into the next room.

* * *

Evening out her breathing is her priority right now. In, out, in, out. She feels like she's suffocating, even though she stands by the open window to get as much air as possible. Her thoughts run wild and she's never been this confused in her life. Her partner, for whom she's had feelings on and off for the better part of their working relationship basically just confirmed that these feelings were mutual. So why is she scared?

"Because I am a coward," she mumbles to herself, answering her own question. It kills her inside that she is going to hurt her partner and herself, but she cannot afford to lose him. Taking one last deep breath she closes the window and steps back out into Tony's living room. He stands right where she left him.

"You don't think we would work out, do you?" he asks before she can say anything and she's once again surprised at how well he knows her.

"It would be a mistake."

He crosses the room with a few quick paces until he stands directly in front of her. "Maybe you're right. But it would be the best mistake anyone ever made."

She swallows once. "We would end up killing each other, I am sure."

"There's no one I would rather be killed by, Ziva."

Her head swims while she's trying to think of something – _anything_ – to say after that, but she's too slow, because in the next moment his lips connect with hers while he cups her cheek with one hand. The kiss is sweet and soft and he's the one ending it.

"I cannot lose you," she whispers desperately trying to make him understand why she's trying so hard to reject him.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Miss David," he says softly while running a hand through her hair, "Not after all we've been through together."

And she realizes that he's right. They have been through hell and back together and caused each other more pain than anyone should have to experience. Why make it harder than it is?  
She closes the gap between them again, instead of answering. This time the kiss holds more of the raw passion which they tried to suppress for so long and she presses herself up flush against his body to be even closer to him.

When they pull apart their eyes connect and somehow she knows that they _will_ try their best to make this work.

* * *

**Everybody's happy, I hope? Wanna review? :)**

Soph, if youre reading this - you got your explantion concerning the vacuum cleaner ;)

**Three days until the premiere and I've never been this excited in my life!**


End file.
